


In Sickness and in Health

by DangerSlut



Category: Outlast (Video Games), Outlast Whi
Genre: Captivity, Castration, Fingering, Gore, Illness, M/M, Mutilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-16 16:59:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2277624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerSlut/pseuds/DangerSlut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waylon presses his face into the pillow, turning his back to Eddie and tries to breath, to stop crying. Oh god, he was going to die in here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Darling, wake up. It is time for your medicine,” comes Eddie’s gentle voice, drawing Waylon out of sleep. He hoped he would die in his sleep before Eddie woke him, like usual, but he doesn’t seem to be that lucky.

Waylon is laying in the shoddy excuse of a bed that Eddie had made for them, chained to the end of it by his ankle and dressed in a bloodied wedding dress. It was his blood staining the groin and bust of it, dried and rusty in colour seeing as the worst of the bleeding had stopped.

He doesn’t know how Eddie did it or why the psycho had chosen him, but the mad man had been gentler with Waylon. He hadn’t hacked away Waylon’s dick and balls like he had the others, but had carefully cut away the ‘vulgar’ bit, carved a hole for himself and then cauterized and sewed up the wound. 

Somehow Waylon had stayed awake for the process, feeling every cut of the knife and burn, and he was amazed that he was still living. Eddie had been careful for whatever reason, but his knives had been dirty. The surgery had made Waylon sick, leaving him bedridden under his ‘husband’s’ care.

He was surprised and relieved that Eddie understood how ill Waylon was, finding painkillers and antibiotics in this hellhole and not pushing for sex even though they were ‘married.’ Waylon as to weak to fight him off but Eddie wouldn’t fuck him. Until he was healed, at least.

Much to Waylon’s disgust, he couldn’t help but be thankful that Eddie was being thoughtful and holding off. He should be enraged at what has happened to him and he does despise Eddie for it, but honestly, it could be a lot worse.

“I know you're tired, that you need your rest, but you must take your medicine,” Repeats Eddie, his voice a little firmer as he slides his hand under Waylon’s head and gently lifts it.  
Waylon moans softly in protest, his eyes cracking open to look the disfigured, concerned face of his captor. He wants to spit in Eddie’s face, curse him out for destroying his body, tell the mad man to leave him to die, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to provoke the mountain of a man. He knows firsthand how angry Eddie could get. 

Eddie pushes his fingers past Waylon’s lips, depositing several pills there before bringing a glass of reasonably clean water to the sick man’s lips. Waylon sucks back the water, constantly thirsty since he got sick. He doesn’t care about the foul taste or how cloudy the water was. He needed water and he needed to get the pills down so he would get better. Get better and get out of here.

“Good girl,” praises Eddie once Waylon had drank the whole cup. He lets Waylon’s head down and brushes back his greasy, messy hair to kiss Waylon’s forehead. “You seem to be doing much better, dear. Days ago I had to dribble water into your mouth and praying you would swallow,” continues the mad man, stroking his hand over Waylon’s cheek.

Waylon doesn’t remember that, but apparently he had been delirious with fever for a week. It seems that the worst of his sickness is over. God, why couldn’t the fever have killed him?

“Mmh,” is Waylon’s reply, his eyes slipping shut as he full intends to go back to sleep and forget about this hell for a little longer.

He can feel the bed dip as Eddie crawls onto it, laying down beside Waylon and resting a hand on top of his ‘wife’s’ stomach. “I think we’ll be ready to start a family soon,” comes Eddie’s excited murmur, his rank breath hot against Waylon’s temple. Waylon feels his stomach drop at that comment and wonders if there is any way to tell Eddie that he couldn’t have children without the mad man going into a fit of rage and murdering him. He doubts it, so he holds his tongue and listens to his ‘husband.’

“Three children would be ideal, but if we have more, I wouldn’t mind,” continues the mad man, rubbing Waylon’s stomach in small circles and smiling as his darling wife shivers under his touch.

“I know you wish we could start now,” purrs Eddie, taking Waylon’s fear as desire. “But we must wait. “It wouldn’t be fair to you or the children to try and bring them into the world while you are still so weak.”

Waylon lets out a relieved whimper when Eddie says that, happy to know Eddie wasn’t going to force him yet, especially when he feels Eddie’s cock start to harden against his hip. But the moment he whimpers, he regrets it. Eddie always take his reactions the wrong way.

“I know your eager to consummate our relationship darling, but I worry the strain would be too much,” coos Eddie, sliding his hand down Waylon stomach to cup his groin through the dress. “How about I give you a little taste of what is waiting for you? To help tide you over?”

The empty space between his thighs doesn’t hurt as much anymore, due to healing and the painkillers, but it still makes Waylon squirm uncomfortably. He may not be bleeding profusely anymore, but if Eddie is to rough, he will be.

“Just a little taste,” purrs Eddie, pulling Waylon’s dress up above his hips. “But don’t worry, I’ll save your virginity until you are better.”

Waylon whimpers when Eddie slides his hand under Waylon’s frilly, blood stained panties, stroking the lips of Waylon’s ‘pussy’ with the tips of his fingers. It doesn’t hurt, not really, but it’s disgusting and wrong and oh god, he doesn’t want this.

“So soft. Perfect,” sighs Eddie, gently massaging the mutilated flesh between Wyalon’s legs and pressing a kiss to his wife’s temple. He starts to grind against his hip and Waylon forces himself not to gag. 

Eddies starts to kiss along Waylon’s jaw and it takes everything Waylon has not to turn his face away, not to anger his 'husband', although every feather light kiss makes his stomach churn.

As Eddie nears his mouth, the mad man prods at Waylon’s slit with a finger, slowly easing it past the lips and inside of Waylon. Waylon jerks and yelps at the sensation of something entering his body and the sudden shock of pain that comes with it. He tries to wriggle back, pulling his hips away, begging weakly “Eddie! It hurts!”

“You’re a virgin, darling, of course the first few times will hurt. It is just something women must endure,” replies the mad man softly, placing a gentle kiss on Waylon’s lips. Waylon lets out a piercing whine, turning his face away as tears of pain start to well up.

Eddie shushes him as he starts to thrust his finger in and out of Waylon, the burning friction making Waylon keen in pain. Eddie kisses him through it, tries to calm him, but it only makes Waylon more hysterical. It hurt so bad! His body wasn’t made for this, even with the hole carved into him!

When Eddie pushes another finger into him, Waylon squeals and tries to push Eddies hand away, kicking his legs weakly out of pain. He feels something pop, then tear, and then a hot rush of pain shoots from his groin to his stomach. 

"Stop! Stop, oh please! Eddie, please," sobs Waylon, trying to wriggle up the bed and away from the mad man's hand. "You're hurting me!"

The larger man grunts, displeased with his wife's protests but heeds them anyways. When he pulls his finger from Waylon's pussy, their gleaming red with blood, which just makes Waylon sob harder. Eddie didn't give him enough time and now was bleeding again!

"Shh, darling, it's alright," shushes Eddie, leaning in close to stroke the smaller man's hair. "Your purity is still intact. Blood doesn't matter; only that you are filled by your husband... Rest now. You're still sick."

Waylon presses his face into the pillow, turning his back to Eddie and tries to breath, to stop crying. Oh god, he was going to die in here.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For howishughdancyevenpossible who wanted surprise sex.   
> (Not really surprise fucking, but Waylon is in for a nasty surprise none the less!

Hiking his dirty wedding dress up above his knees, Waylon runs. Well, he runs as best as he can, pain radiating between his thighs and slipping on bloody floors at every turn. He had been living with Eddie as his wife for who knows how long, and had quickly learned to assess the mad man’s moods. He had to, to survive. With how mangled he was after Eddie’s forced sex reassignment, there was no way he could survive this place without his ‘husband’s’ protection.

Eddie was in a rage behind him, destroying whatever he came across; furniture, walls, people… Not even Waylon was safe from the Groom when he was like this. Hopefully Eddie hadn’t seen him bolt; otherwise he would just enrage the larger man even more. He doesn’t hear Eddie racing after him, so he keeps running, his heart pounding. He never leaves Eddie’s territory, knows it’s free of other variants, so he hides instead.

Crawling under a table, winching as he crouches down, Waylon tries to stay as quiet as possible. He doesn’t want Eddie to find him here and get angry that he left.

The sound of breaking wood and Eddie’s curses dies down quickly, but Waylon stayed hidden, trying to hear the other man’s footsteps.

“Darling? Darling, where are you?” calls the mad man, his voice echoing through the dark hallways. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m sorry.”

Waylon stays crouched under the table, starting to shake with fear. Eddie’s voice was getting louder.

“Let me make it up to you, Darling,” coos Eddie, his heavy footsteps now reaching Waylon’s ears. “We both know I can make you sing, my love. Let me be gentle with you.”

Waylon whimpers in terror, remembering all the other times Eddie had been ‘gentle’ with him. There was always pain, no matter how careful the larger man was.

“Darling?” calls Eddie again, his voice as clear as a bell. Peeking around the edge of the table, Waylon sees Eddie enter the room, and then hides again. His ‘husband’ looked tense, like he could blow up into a murderous rage at any moment.

“Whore!” bellows the man mad, starting to search the room. “After all I have done for you, this is how you repay me?! We’re married! You should be here to comfort me when I am upset! When I need you!”

Without thinking, Waylon scrambles out from under the table and runs. He doesn’t dare look back, but he can hear Eddie chasing after him, spitting every curse under the sun at him.

He runs down hallway after hallway, not thinking of where he was going, just desperate to escape. He can hear Eddie right behind him, the mad man’s breathing and footsteps loud in his ears. Grabbing onto a doorframe, Waylon makes a sharp right turn, ignoring Eddie’s cry of “No!”

The room he runs into opens up into a gymnasium, but there were ropes crisscrossed all over the floor and smelt like death. It smelt worse than any other part of the asylum he had been in before. Waylon doesn’t have the time to look up, to see whatever the rope work created, to focused on not tripping over the ropes and being caught by Eddie. But then something falls from the roof and lands in front of him with a wet splat, stopping him in his tracks. Looking at the blackened, foul smelling mass, Waylon realizes they’re guts. There were guts falling from the ceiling…

As he starts to look up, a large, warm mass crashes into him, knocking in to the ground.

Waylon throws punches and kicks wildly, panicked to the point of madness. Before he knows it though, his wrists are pinned above his head in one of Eddie’s large hands, the other forcing his thighs apart so Eddie could wedge his hips between them.

“Ignore them, Darling. They mean nothing, I promise,” pants Eddie, looming over Waylon with a look of fear on his face. “They are nothing. Nothing compared to you.”

Waylon’s panic is replaced by confusion, unsure of what Eddie was talking about.

“This is why they are nothing. None of them could handle becoming beautiful, becoming perfect,” says Eddie, almost pleading with Waylon as he strokes his fingers over the gash he had cut between Waylon’s thighs. Waylon shudders in pain and pleasure, the wound still not fully healed. But Eddie’s fingers dance over the stump of his cock, his ‘clit’ as Eddie calls it. It feels good and bad at the same time, the stumps so sensitive it makes him squirm under Eddie instantly. He whimpers and bites his lips, eyes slipping closed as torturous pleasure spreads in him.

“You’re pussy; it was made for me,” purrs the mad man, easing a finger into Waylon’s slit. “None of those others, none of those whores, saved themselves for me. Not like you, my love.”

Waylon’s thighs twitch as Eddie pulls his finger out, trying to endure what was happening. He can hear Eddie pulling down his fly, making Waylon’s breath catch in his throat and tears well up in the corners of his eyes.

“You make me so happy, Darling,” whispers the mad man, leaning down over Waylon as he pushes his dick slowly into Waylon.

Waylon squirms and gasps in pain, the half healed hole between his legs spreading for Eddie’s thick cock. He clutches as Eddie’s back, gasping and shaking, praying that it would be over soon.

Eddie thrusts into him fast and hard, making Waylon keen in agony. He throws his head back, eyes flying open from the force of Eddie’s fucking, giving him a good view of the ceiling.

Waylon retches instantly, vomit bubbling up at the back of his throat as he sees the dozens upon dozens of bodies hanging from the roof. Rotting, bloated corpses spilling their inside and swarming with flies. These must be the ‘other’s’ Eddie was talking about. The poor variants and guards that died while Eddie tried to make them his bride.

Swallowing back the vomit quickly, he opens his mouth to scream in horror, but one of Eddie’s hands covers his mouth. Then one covers his eyes.

He writhes under Eddie, gagged and blinded by the larger man. Eddie pushes down on his face, snarling until Waylon goes still again.

“Don’t look at them, dear,” growls Eddie, his fucking becoming even rougher. “You’re the only one I want. The only women for me. They mean nothing, I promise.”

Waylon clutches at Eddie’s wrists, trying to pull them off as the larger man pushes his head back against the gym floor, pinning him with just the pressure on his face. He was being smothered and crushed at the same time, speared on Eddie cock, and terrified.

“You’re the prefect girl for me,” grunts Eddie, his hips stuttering as he cums. “The only one… I love you so much, Darling.”


End file.
